I fell in love with food from a young age. I wanted to become a chef because I loved food. It’s often an underpaid job, and so your passion for gaining the skills to cook good food (or being a glutton for punishment) are at the core of why you do this job. 

For me, that’s how it started. 

Then it took a turn. Then I became a restaurant owner. 

I often thought that the integrity of a chef lies in the product that he or she creates. It comes down to what’s on the plate. I don’t believe that to be a lie. But I think it’s a half truth. ​

As chefs, we work extremely long hours, are detail oriented when it comes to our prep (mise en place), and take pride in making sure all of our portioning is exact. We want to work with ingredients in ways that people haven’t experienced before. Therefore, we seek knowledge of different ingredients and cooking techniques. 

We want our dishes to look good as well as taste good. “You eat with your eyes first.” You think of how to make the dish look aesthetically pleasing while not distracting it from it’s main flavours. We lean towards the natural color and texture of the ingredients we are using. We take time to think of what shape of plate, bowl, or other vehicle we would use to bring the food to the guest. We use tweezers, tongs, our hands and fingers, to place each impeccable piece of food onto the plate in a way that looks amazing. 

It’s meticulous. 

We take pride in being chefs who can do it all. Whatever challenge is thrown at us, we can do it. We are unstoppable. There’s something about taking the seemingly impossible and accomplishing it. It feels good.

It makes sense, right?

The kitchen is a great place for teaching some amazing life skills. Learning how to use a knife efficiently, to sous vide, to properly cook a steak, those are all great things. But what’s greater is the ability to teach effective communication during periods of stress, to teach strong work ethic, to teach forgiveness and patience. 

Those are the things that will really stick, and that can be transferred to whatever life goal anyone would happen to have. 

So I tried to focus on those things. And I made a lot of mistakes along the way. 

Losing my temper during busy dinner services that were chaotic and didn’t meet the expectations of what I had for the team time and time again, and spending countless hours apologizing. 

People over product. That kept coming up in the back of my mind. Surely we were thinking about the guests that we were serving and factoring in all that entails a great dining experience. But would an average guest at my restaurant really be able to notice if a risotto is not seasoned exactly how I would like it? Surely my own palate doesn't display the accuracy of a deity. 

So then, is it worth yelling at a staff member for the cause?

I’m not sure what the future holds for me, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be in a position where I am leading another kitchen team. But if I am to be in that position again, I will hold true to one thing. 

The product should be the medium, not the purpose. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love cooking, But what I love more about cooking is not the act of cooking, but the act of serving others. The act of cooking something lovingly for someone, and having them enjoy it. The act of being able to allow others to enter into my mind of what food could be. But with that comes an even bigger philosophy and purpose. It’s the purpose of using food as the means to enabling others to grow and learn to be better people. 

That’s what’s most important. ​